Yellow Subma-Dream
by Alitote
Summary: Ringo and Paul get to experience the age old cartoon Yellow Submarine in a rather personal way...
1. Prologue

Once Upon a Time...

Or maybe twice...

There was an unearthly paradise, called...

_ Pepperland._

80,000 Leagues, beneath the sea it lay... or lie... I'm not to sure.

It was a beautiful land, full of colors and sounds and life! Everywhere there was life! And music, lovely, lovely music played by everyone with an instrument. Over there sat Lord Mayor and his quartet, and a ways off a duo of musician's shared a piano off a ways, plunking away artfully at it's keys.

Old Fred plucked flowers from the bushes, taking time to smell each one as he listened to a pretty woman in cobalt blue strum away at her harp for the dancing children before her, there mother watching with admiration as she rocked away in her yellow-white rocking chair. Slowly, Old Fred approached her, removing his hat before handing her the bouquet of flowers and blushing deeply as she admired them.

Towards the more public regions of Pepperland, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was giving a public performance, playing away on a raised platform for the park-goers who stopped to watch and listen.

However, a ways away, everything was not so lovely. In the distant, blue mountains an army was beginning to rise. Hundreds of blue fuzzball-looking creatures rallied around a much larger blue fuzzball-looking creature along with tall men in suits holding green apples, and large mangy cats with numbers on their stomachs. Behind them turks with snapping mouth's for stomachs waited patiently for what was to happen.

A palanquin bearing the largest blue fuzzball, with long floppy black ears and ugly yellow teeth, was carried forward.

This was the infamous Chief Blue Meanie, leader of the wretched Blue Meanies.

"Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the universe," He drawled in his high pitched voice before climbing out of the palanquin and sending it away, he turned to his leuitenant, Max, and smiled, "It must be scratched, right Max?"

"Yes your Blueness!" The smaller blue meanie cried. This immediately sent the Chief Blue Meanie into a rage.

"WHAT?!" He screamed, snatching Max's blue floppy ears, "We Meanies only take _NO_ for an answer!" He dropped Max as the rage built and he pressed his face close to Max's terrified one, his eyes glowing yellow, "Is that understood Max?!"

"No your Blueness!" Max saluted, grinning fearfully and the Chief Blue Meanie's rage began to subside. He smiled, at ease, and straightened so Max could sit up better.

"That's better." He smiled, looking around, "Are the troops in readiness?"

"No your Blueness!"

"The Bonkers?" The Chief asked as the tall men in the purple suits raised their giant green apples in preparation.

"No." Max replied in confirmation.

"Clowns?" Large, fat clowns in blue shirts patterned with pink flowers and flashing buttons along their chests, their large grey heads topped with tall pink, pointed hats spinning round and round as they grinned widely.

"No."

"Snapping Turks?" Large men with blue skin and red fezzes let their stomachs snap with their large white teeth and blue eyes inset on their chests.

"No."

"Anti-Music Missile?" The Chief asked as two common Blue Meanies pulled levers and the mountain's rock gave way to reveal a large blue hole as a large glove pulled into a fist with it's pointer finger extended flew by, eyes and a crooked grin flew by, "Dreadful Flying Glove?"

"No!"

"Splendid!" The Chief cried in excitement before a rather nasty look sneered along his face and he leaned over the cliff side to lear down on peaceful Pepperland, his followers leaning with him, "Today," He snarled, "Pepperland goes bluey..." He let his tongue roll out of his mouth in disgust before he flailed his body and pointed a large blue hand with a yellow claw, "FIRE!"

The two common Meanies yanked on their leavers and a large blue ball, like a large blue marble, fired from it's hiding place in the rocks and soared down towards Pepperland. Flying through the air, it landed rather violently on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, causing the ground to shake as it enveloped the performers instead of smashing them.

The area fell silent and Pepperland's resident's looked around in confusion before flying into a panic. They screamed and ran this way and that, fearing the next attack while on the mountain cliffs, the Meanies prepared a number of large blue guns. Firing cobalt blue arrows down on the land, striking their victims immobile and stone gray.

Monuments sunk into the ground, flowers were clipped at their stems and the Meanies ran free! The Apple Bonkers dropped their large green apples on the immobile people of Pepperland as a single man ran free through his fallen, frozen friends.

"The Meanies are coming!" Panted Old Fred as he ran, "The Meanies are coming!"

"Glove... Glove, come here Glove," The Chief Blue Meanie said sweetly on the mountain top, "Look out there and what do you see?" He roughly shoved Max's head back and smiled, "Tell him Max."

"Someone running Glove." Max said, his pointer finger following Old Fred.

"Yes," The Chief said, turning back to pet the pointer finger of the Dreadful Flying Glove, "But you'll soon put a stop to that wont you Glovey? Go! Point and having pointed pounce! GO!" The Chief screamed and flailed as the Glove shot into the sky, leaving a trail of gray smoke as he sped towards Old Fred, who was dodging arrows as he ran.

Old Fred ran and ran, finally finding refuge in the large monument YES until it was smashed and turned stone gray by the raging Glove, who laughed a laugh so deep and dark it seemed to echo from all directions in Old Fred's ears.

Atop the mountain, the Blue Meanies were rolling in the dust laughing as they watched Old Fred run through the large monuments of words that turned gray and crumbled to dust in the grass. As the poor old man ran for his life, his boot caught on itself and his head nearly crashed into the large statue made to look like Sgt. Pepper's old base drum and the Glove came inches from pouncing on the old sailor, pausing to laugh manically before curling into a tight fist and slamming down as hard as it could.

Only to be met with water as the creature housing the statue on it's back picked itself up to move, carrying Old Fred with it. The Glove was submerged completely, remaining in the cold water as it floated there, stunned. Atop the mountain, the Chief screamed and ran in different directions.

"WHAT?! WHAT! THE GLOVE IS LOOSING IT'S TOUCH!" He cried, running towards a waiting Countdown Clown and beat his large fists against it, "Do your worst! Do your worst! Destroy them!" As he raged and ranted Max climbed his small blue ladder and pressed the Countdown Clown's large red nose, issuing a loud squawking sound and the Countdown Clown and a bomb flew towards Old Fred, colorful smoke rising from the ground where it landed. Max pressed the nose again and a number of trees was blown down to stumps. Above, the Glove had caught up and now whipped around ahead of Old Fred, who quickly turned and began running the other way.

"Not polite to point!" He cried, terrified as he was cut off again, the Glove laughed and Old Fred turned back around and sped away, the sound of the Glove rocketing towards him filling him with dread. He ran past the Peace Monument, two hands shaking, and it blew to bits behind him. He could hear the Glove whimpering under the rubble and willed himself to run faster.

Farther away, separate from all the mess, sat Lord Mayer and his quartet, still happily playing away on their instruments.

"Sir... sir!" Old Fred panted, his voice drowned out by the strings of the violins, "The Blue Meanies are coming!"

"Not here Young Fred," Lord Mayor said, his rosy skin crinkling in a smile as he strummed his cello, "They wouldn't dare."

"They would sir," Old Fred said, removing his hat and wringing it, "They are! What are you gonna do?!"

Lord Mayor strummed his cello thoughtfully, "Finish the quartet!" He announced, beginning to play again. His ensemble members nodded and began to play as well, until the fourth member was struck with an arrow and was struck as still as a statue. His violin flew into the air and was caught by Old Fred.

"Trio, sir." Old Fred said, trying to be helpful. At that moment the third member was struck, his violin flying into the air as well only to be caught by Old Fred, "Duet sir."

Lord Mayor, caught up in the music with his eyes closed, frowned, "Duet?"

Only to have the second member struck down as well, her violin flying into Old Fred's arms.

"Solo sir," Old Fred cried, trying to play three violins at once and barely managing to keep them in his arms.

"Young Fred," Lord Mayor opened his eyes and choked on his words before flying into the air in fear, "The Blue Meanies are coming!" Old Fred caught his friend in his arms, dropping the instruments and running for it. Above them the Blue Meanies fired their arrows but couldn't manage to strike the two running men, well... running man and his one passenger.

They ran fast and hard, towards a large Aztec like pyramid on the edge of Pepperland. Atop the pyramid sat a bright yellow submarine, glistening in the sun. Old Fred set the Lord Mayor on his feet and together the two hurried up the steps of the pyramid, both huffing and puffing in their old age.

"Four scores and thirty two bars ago," Lord Mayor wheezed as they climbed, "Our four fathers-"

"Our quartet!" Old Fred corrected as they climbed ever higher.

"And our four mother-"

"Another quartet!"

"Made it in this Yellow Submarine." Lord Mayer said, dropping his cello and Old Fred hurried to pick it up for him before looking up at the submarine sitting on a pillar at the top of the pyramid.

"What that little thing?" Old Fred asked, pointing at it.

"To Pepperland!" Lord Mayer panted hard.

Behind them the Blue Meanies charged the pyramid, large four headed dogs with glasses and whiskers pulling at their black leather leashes as they ran.

Atop the pyramid, Lord Mayor set up a wire stand as a large blue anchor lowered from the submarine, "Climb aboard Young Fred," He croaked much to Old Fred's chargin.

"But sir!" He cried, "I can't even make myself float!" He cried, swinging on the anchor as his friend tuned his cello.

"I'm appointing you Lord Admiral," Lord Mayor said, giving his cello a strum with his bow.

"But sir!" Old Fred cried as he flailed in his seat on the anchor but Lord Mayor was hearing none of it.

"Go Young Fred!" He cried, readying himself to play as the Meanies attacked the pyramid, "Go! Get help!"

"But wh-where-where should I go?" Old Fred asked frightfully. Above, the submarine's hatch door opened and the anchor was retracted inside the ship as Lord Mayor called, "No time for trivalties!" As Old Fred disappeared inside the submarine took off, flying through the air, barely missing the bomb that destroyed it's pedestal.

"Go! Go..." Lord Mayor called, beginning to frantically play as a last stand against the attacking Meanies. He was quickly surrounded by the Apple Bonkers who promptly dropped their green apples atop their latest victim. Lord Mayor grew immobile, turning gray and still, buried beneath a mound of green apples.

As the Yellow Submarine flew far, far away from Pepperland, journeying through 80,00 leagues of sea towards the only quartet who could possibly help.

Or could they?


	2. Chapter 1: Woah is me

Liverpool was dark and dreary-as usual-with an ever-present threat of rain. It all seemed dark, as the people bustled about and hurried this way and that.

One of those people was a short man with brown hair and a thick chestnut mustache. He wore something typical of the late sixties, a purple and red pinstripe suit with gray slacks with red and yellow stripes on the sides, black shiny shoes, and a bright orange tie with pink carnations flowered along it. Several colorful and shiny rings covered his fingers. He frowned as he heard the chimneys honk like submarine horns, rockets of smoke shooting from their stacks.

"Woah... is... me..." Words tumbled from his mouth without his realizing it and the moment they were out he stopped short along the sidewalk he'd been walking, besides a small mound of abandoned crates. He folded his hands behind his back and tapped his foot before more words pushed themselves up and out of his mouth, "Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night..."

_'What is this?'_ He thought, _'Why am I saying this? Stop it now Ringo! Stop it!'_

Feeling suddenly dizzy, he scratched a thigh with a foot and turned to walk away.

_'I feel like an old... splintered... drumstick-wait, what?! What's the matter with me? I need to get home to Barbra and get to sleep-I have an early flight tomorrow!' _He thought, walking back the way he'd come and felt another statement escape his lips, "I'd jump into the river Mercy... but it looks like rain." He felt his mouth give an odd half-smile without his consent and his hands were now in his pockets as he walked across the street.

''Nothing ever happens to me." He muttered without knowing why.

Ringo Starr, also known as Richard Starkey, was for once not feeling _old_. He felt a lot more energized, and what ached or creaked didn't seem to ache or creak tonight. He wiggled his top lip and wondered if he'd always had a moustache, and wondered what had happened to his stubble as the cold Liverpool wind kissed his smooth cheek.

The world looked rather... painted around him. And he felt rather odd as he walked and wondered what was going on.

A strange sound was emanating behind him, the sound of a motor or something he assumed as he looked back to see nothing. He frowned, stopped, and looked around only to hear the motor sound slip behind him. Seeing nothing he shrugged and continued to walk, wondering why he was walking in the first place.

_'This all seems... familiar somehow.'_ He thought, hearing the motor again and turning to look-once again finding nothing there! He frowned in frustration and marched onwards until he came to another street, filled with high brick walls and dark gray colors.

Was this normal? Was it right? It all felt wrong... why was he in Liverpool in the first place? He lived in three places and none of them were Liverpool... right? He was supposed to be in Monte Carlo right now... he was sure of it... he thought... maybe?...

He felt odd, and his body stopped to let him look around a moment or two before continuing onwards, casting glances behind him every now and again. He sighed in frustration-or tried to anyway. His sighing seemed to be broken along with his understanding of what was going on.

_'Me body's waging revolt! And winning!' _He thought, terrified. He tried desperately to get his body to stop walking, or turn around, or even get his eye to twitch but it was all ignoring him! What was going on?!

As the panic coursed through him, he noticed he'd walked upon a police officer trying to play with an unresponsive, gray cat. He was wiggling a finger at it, beckoning forward, calling, "Puss... puss... puss, puss, puss, 'ere pussy. Here pussy. Here pussy, pussy."

Ringo's body stopped and allowed him to observe the odd spectacle until the officer noticed his presence. Embarrassed, he climbed to his feet and brushed himself off, putting on an air of dignity. The cat ran away, much to his disappointment but Ringo quickly caught his attention with words that he didn't give his mouth permission to say.

"'Ey would you believe me if I told you I was being followed by a Yellow Submarine?" What? How did he know that? That wasn't even possible!

The officer seemed to agree and frowned rather annoyed, "No, no I would not."

"Oh yeah, didn't think you would." Ringo replied rather cheekily and turned to go as the motor sound followed him again.

_'Is that the Yellow Submarine?'_ He wondered, _'Am I dreaming or something? Is that why nothing makes sense? But no... you can do what you want in dreams, and I'm not able to do anything! Unless it's me mind rebelling... a rebellious dream perhaps?'_

His body broke into a run, panting with exertion and panic of it's own.

"I could have sworn I was being followed by a yellow submarine!" He said as he ran up a hill towards a large house, "But that's not logical now is it? It musta been one of them unidentified flying cupcakes or a figment of me imagination!" What? Now that sounded daft even to Ringo! He approached the front steps of the large house, stopping to add, "But I don't have an imagination."

Feeling slightly hurt by his mouth's words, Ringo opened the large green door and stepped inside to find he was standing in a large, fancy, white hall. Something like a palace perhaps, and it was eerily quiet until the door began knocking rather loud and insistently.

"Help!" A loud voice cried from the other side, "Help! Help!" The continued knocking as Ringo turned back and leaned on the door.

"Thanks, we don't need any." He muttered to his minds protest. Who needed help? What was wrong? And who was this we? Barbara? Where one of the kids home? Was this his home?!

"Help! Help! Won't you please, please help me!?" The voice sounded rather old and tired despite it's insistence and as Ringo looked down through the mail slot, he saw it was an old man dressed in a submarine captain's uniform with gray-white fuzzy hair. Behind him sat a parked _Yellow Submarine!_

_'This is really familiar... eerily familiar in fact.'_ Ringo thought as his mouth said, "Be pacific."

The man spluttered and flailed, spitting random words like "Music!" and "Submarine!" before falling to his knees before the steps and wailing, "Blue Meanies!"

"What unies?" Ringo sighed as he closed the mail slot. Outside the man continued.

"H for Hurry, E for Urgent! L for Love me and P for P-please! Help me!"

Ringo's body sighed and turned back to open the door for the man before walking away. He wandered down the halls and through a door, listening to it slam and then hearing a giant commotion behind the now closed door. He didn't have time to wonder what it was though, as he discovered he'd walked into a garage filled with four different cars.

_'That one looks like Paul's Aston Martin... and that looks like John's Rolls Royce! Boy there was an uproar after he painted that...' _He walked through until he approached a red car, a rather fancy car, and climbed in. The key was already in the ignition and he turned it with a flick of the wrist.

Instead of opening a garage door-there wasn't one-Ringo turned the car towards the door he'd walked through and drove on, the door flying open and widening at the last second as Ringo mentally screamed in fear. On the outside, he gave a mere laugh and rode down the giant hall before turning through another doorway and finding the old man at the bottom of two ornate flights of stairs in a large pink and green ballroom. The car traveled down the stairs jerking left and right, like it was walking!

At the bottom he drove the car in a full circle before stopping right in front of the old man. Another inch and he would have hit him...

"Oh your story has touched me heart." He said rather lightly before returning to his usual laid back drawl, "Jump in, we'll get me friends."

"Oh bless you!" The man smiled, climbing in beside Ringo.

"I didn't sneeze."

Together they drove towards another door to the side of the hall, it flying open and widening like the others had done.

"Just park it here." The man said.

"I'll just park it here." Ringo repeated as he stopped the car and killed the engine. They'd stopped in front of another unmarked white door and together climbed out to enter it themselves.

The moment the door shut, Ringo heard another insane commotion of noises and screams coming from behind it. He desperately wanted to check it out, but his legs wouldn't turn around as he led the old man who knows where.

They walked through a hall full of statues of different foods. Large statues that stood ten feet tall, making Ringo hungry as the man asked, "Hey, what would your friends be doing here?"

"Just playin'." He replied, making himself cringe internally as he waited for the punch line.

"Just playin' what?"

"Just playin' around." There was a drum and cymbal crash from somewhere and Ringo groaned inside his head. That was dumb, why would he say that?!

They entered another hall full of large wax dummys of starlets, action heroes, and magicians. Ringo walked right by them but the old navy officer stopped to inspect a few, Ringo envied him of his free will as he wrestled with whatever force was controlling his body.

"Can't we take one of these?" The old man asked and Ringo stopped to look at him, an action his head actually agreed with.

"No, they aren't me mates." He said, turning to walk ahead. The old man was quick to follow and eventually they entered what looked like a lab. It had a large green Frankenstein laying strapped to a large metal table that was easily taller than Ringo or the much taller old man. Wires and pieces of machinery sprung and snaked ever which way, including in and out of the monster sleeping on the table.

"Frankenstein?!" The old officer exclaimed.

"Oh he likes to go out with his sister." Ringo said as some sort of explanation.

"His sister?"

"Yeah, Phyllis. Eh, I wonder what happened if I pulled this lever?" He wondered, walking closer to the large table and touching the large silver lever.

"You mustn't do that." The man cautioned.

"Can't help it, I'm a born lever-puller." Ringo said and with that he grasped the handle and pulled it down. Immediately the machines began to whir and smoke, a chute couching out a green ball of sparks that flew threw the air and hit the old man's captain hat. The man pulled it off to inspect the damage as Frankenstein woke and began to move, snapping the restraints and tubes off with incredible ease!

_'What the _HELL_ did I just unleash?!'_ Ringo wondered as the monster stood and smiled down at them, giving a large groan of appreciation before downing a large vial filled with a purple and blue smoking concoction. There was a scream from nowhere and lightning flashed around the monster, which shrunk and began to morph at the speed of an eye's blink.

The hair turned auburn, the skin pale Caucasian, and a mustache sprouted along the upper lip! His clothes went from rags to a black thick jacket, and a green shirt with pink leaves, the collar folded on top of the buttoned up jacket. Purple slacks tightened around his long legs and black fancy shoes replaced the old, threadbare ones.

A pair of spectacles donned his face and he smiled cheekily at Ringo, who was ready to faint!

"Hey Ringo," they said, "I've just had the strangest dream."

"I warned you not to eat on an empty stomach." Ringo said, although his voice sounded constricted as he felt his head breaking in two, joy and despair, elation and confusion, happiness and sorrow. Where was he?! What was going on?! Why wouldn't anyone help him?! Black spots danced around his vision and he felt his body crumple to the laboratory floor.

Above, John Lennon watched in confusion along with the old sailor Ringo had been leading around.

But that was impossible.

John Lennon was quite dead.

Had been for 34 years now.


	3. Chapter 2: What is it Ringo?

"Ringo?"

_'What?'_

"Ringo get up! The floor's filthy!"

_'Eww... trying John! Wait! John?!'_ Ringo's eyes snapped open-of their own volition-and Ringo was looking into the wondering face of his friend John Lennon-short shaggy auburn hair with sideburns and a mustache! A large pair of glasses shielded his eyes but Ringo was looking at the clear as day.

"It has to be a dream..." He whispered and John frowned.

"What's a dream? You know, I had a strange dream. Probably because I ate on an empty stomach."

"John?" Ringo reached up and touched John's face-flesh and blood face! John quirked his eyebrow at the contact and helped the shaky drummer to his feet.

"You okay? Eat to many Unidentified Cupcakes again?"

"N-no! No... just an off day is all..." Ringo muttered, repressing the urge to cry. That wouldn't do now, no... no crying!

"Who's yer friend by the way? Captain of some sort?" John grinned, pointing to the old man in the uniform. Ringo frowned and a name appeared in his head.

"This is Old Fred," He said, "I guess."

"You guess?" John chuckled good naturedly, "Nineteen minutes in and you're already confused?"

"What?" Ringo questioned but he was drowned out as Old Fred begun spluttering and flailing about again, crying random real words now and again such as, "Music!" "Submarine!" and wailing "Blue Meanies!" as John draped a shoulder over his drummer friend and led him a few steps away.

"What do you think?" Old Fred asked as he finished and John just smiled like he understood the whole thing. Meanwhile Ringo couldn't stop staring at him, he looked so young... and _alive!_

"Hmm, I think it needs rehearsal," John said, completely serious but he turned back to Old Fred and nodded, leading the way towards another door Ringo hadn't seen before. Ringo stood there waiting to be forced away again but this time, he took a step when _he_ wanted to! Smiling with mirth he hurried to follow John and Old Fred, not wanting to lose his old friend again for awhile.

"When do we leave?" John asked, opening the door as a number of doors outside slammed closed.

"Well let's get the other two John." Old Fred said and Ringo nearly stopped again, which would have ended in the door smashing his face. Two?! George and Paul?! GEORGE WAS HERE TOO?!

"What day is it?" John asked, walking a few steps down the hall before turning back and walking towards Ringo as he shut the door.

"Saturday." The drummer answered.

"Then George should be here." John said, pulling open a door and letting the other two look inside. Excited, Ringo leaned in the doorway to see something rather odd: a room reaching higher than he'd seen the house go with screens inset into the high, high walls showing weird images in calming colors and rippling in time with the sitar music playing. The walls were painted with images of sphinxes surrounding George on a throne before a large green Arabian city. The painting George wore a large brown coat with green trimming and black pants, his arms folded and a rather serious expression upon his mustache and bearded face.

Ringo looked up, and high upon a pedestal near the top of the room stood his friend who'd been dead for thirteen years, his shoulder length brown-black hair blowing in a breeze.

"George," Ringo laughed, "What are you doing up there?"

Behind him, he heard a car pass and thinking it was the odd commotions he'd been hearing, Ringo turned back in time to see George drive past in the red car.

"Now what is it Ringo?" He asked and Ringo hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of that voice till that very moment, "Is there a matter you'd like to take up?" George honked the horn a few times and drove by again, making for a third time when he stopped before the three, "Or down?"

"Uhh... This chap here?" Ringo referenced Old Fred, thinking that was what was important in this dream. It had just thrown him a _major_ two bones, he could at least reciprocate right?

Old Fred began to flail and sputter again and George just nodded, looking serious if not a little bored, John singing along as Old Fred screamed, "Blue Meanies!"

"Ah you're nuts the pair ah yah!" George replied beginning to drive off and Ringo frowned.

"Isn't that my car?" He wondered as George began to drive back and forth before them aimlessly.

"How you know it's your car?" He asked rather cheekily.

"I'd know it anywhere." Ringo smirked, even though he knew he wouldn't. This was the first time he'd ever seen that car.

"What's it look like then?" George asked as he passed.

"Red with yellow wheels duh."

Suddenly, as George passed by, Ringo blinked and the car was blue with orange wheels!

"I-I mean, blue with orange wheels!"

He blinked again, and the car was now yellow with gray wheels. George stopped in front of Ringo again and pointed a boney finger at his forehead, "It's all in the mind." He said as John began to climb in.

"Come on move over, I'm driving." Ringo said, figuring he couldn't trust this sneaky George much yet and all four of them began to move this way and that about the car. As Ringo began to sit down, John stood and placed his foot on the driver's seat.

"I got in first." He declared and Ringo frowned as George moved to stand in the passenger seat while Old Fred retreated to the back seats.

"No you drive," He said before frowning, like he'd missed something. Everyone glanced at Ringo and he wondered if he was supposed to have done something before George turned back to John, "You sit in the middle."

"I am driving!" John exclaimed before frowning again and looking at Ringo, who realized he was supposed to have said or done something, but what? George shrugged and said, "I'll get in the back then." And climbed over to sit next to Old Fred. John sat down and started the car, pressing down on the gas pedal and beginning to drive.

It was here Ringo remembered John was a notoriously bad driver and realized maybe George had been waiting for Ringo to include his arguments that he should drive if George couldn't drive. He further regretted not insisting he'd take the wheel as John somehow lost control of the car and crashed it into the corner of a wall!

Instead of being hurt, all four of the car's occupants flew from the car and three of them landed nimbly on their feet. Ringo crashed onto his bottom and was helped up by George.

"Thanks." Ringo grinned as he and George brushed himself off and George nodded while John and Old Fred began to run the way they'd come.

"It's all in the mind you know." George said and took off after them. John and Old Fred stopped a few yards away in front of a door, John pulling it open to reveal a bedroom with a large French window. Outside, King Kong was looking in before he reached through, shattering the glass, and closed a hand around a woman's bed. Ringo was about to run inside as she screamed but John just closed the door looking rather bored.

"We... we gotta find Paul right?" Ringo asked, feeling odd as John continued to the next door. He pulled it open but quickly shut it as Ringo heard a train's whistle.

"It's all in the mind." George said again, referring to his head and Ringo frowned.

"Is that all you say?" Ringo asked and George looked at him confused before turning his attention to another door and pointing at it. Ringo walked forward when no one else did and pulled it open, peaking inside to see it was Carnegie Hall, or a hall very much like it.

People were screaming applause for the young performer onstage, who was waving back as he stood beside a piano and flowers and bouquets were thrown in his direction. Ringo quickly shut it and turned to the others in time for George to declare, "Yes they do look very nice don't they?"

"Yes they do." Ringo nodded.

"They do though, don't they?" John agreed.

"Yes they do." George continued.

"No they don't." Ringo said, for the sake of quieting them and went to pull the door open a second time when whoever was onstage beat him to it.

A very young Paul, dressed in a blue shirt and red and yellow striped tie with a buttoned brown jackets and tan slacks strode out, fixing his tie and turning back to catch the bouquet of roses thrown at him.

"What's the matter fellas?" He asked, "Blue Meanies?" He folded his hands, holding the flowers, behind his back and turned to look at them when his face went very pale and his jaw dropped in shock.

"Well lads," Old Fred said, ignoring Paul who fainted, "What do you think?"

"Paul!" Ringo cried, hurrying towards his friend as John and George followed Old Fred down the hall like nothing was wrong, talking amongst themselves and pausing where Ringo guessed he and Paul would have spoken. Ringo shook Paul's shoulder and Paul's eyes snapped open in fright!

"What?! What?! What's going on here?!" Paul cried, frantic as Ringo helped him to his black shoed feet.

"I don't know... I don't understand it either."

"Ringo..." Paul reached out and touched Ringo's mustache, "Yer so _young!_"

"So 're you Paul." Ringo said and Paul looked down at his clothes.

"Oh my... Ringo... what are we doing here?"

"I don't know-oh! The lads are leaving us! Come on!" Ringo said, taking Paul's arm and pulling him down the hall where their friends and Old Fred walked out the door. They caught up just as Old Fred opened the hatch and John and George strode inside behind him.

"Right then, let's get this vessel ship shape!" Old Fred cried.

"We're in the _Yellow Submarine!_ Ringo! The Yellow freakin' Submarine!" Paul exclaimed, dropping his flower bouquet and looking around in a mixture of fright and amazement.


End file.
